


Time to Run

by themonkeycabal



Series: Run 'Verse [7]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark's Daughter, Gen, Tony's Really Bad At This, but he tries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-08
Updated: 2014-04-08
Packaged: 2018-01-18 15:18:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,059
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1433230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/themonkeycabal/pseuds/themonkeycabal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Run 'Verse Prequel. </p><p>Tony's not quite sure about this whole dad thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time to Run

**Author's Note:**

> It's been a while. I've been writing in this 'verse all along, but I haven't been happy with most of it. I finally realized I was writing the same thing over and over again, which was boring to write, and would have, undoubtedly, been boring to read. So, I stopped, reevaluated, burned a few things (not literally), and feel a little clearer now. 
> 
> This one was actually written a while ago, but it sat on a legal pad until I got around to typing it up yesterday. Parts of this come from way back when I first started writing the story, but they didn't fit and got scrapped. Pixar rule of storytelling #17: _No work is ever wasted. If it's not working, let go and move on - it'll come back around to be useful later._

Rebecca Perlman sighed when Tony walked in the door. His efforts at disguise were ludicrous, but, surprisingly effective. He drew stares, but it had more to do with the stringy mullet, the foam and mesh trucker cap, and the stained Iron Maiden shirt being questionable attire for a mid-range family diner, than the fact that he was Tony Stark. 

With a snorted laugh, she waved him over to her booth and rolled her eyes as he slid in and pulled off the over-large, gold-rimmed sunglasses. 

"Subtle, Tony."

"What?" He dropped the glasses onto the sticky formica-topped table and poked at the vinyl menu. 

"Do I even want to know why you have a mullet wig?"

He smirked. "Ah, it was a hell of a party."

"I guess it had to be," she shook her head and watched him pick up the menu by one corner and hesitantly open it. "Just stick with the coffee, Tony, and you'll survive your time down here with us mortals."

He dropped the menu and looked around. "Seems like a ... nice? Nice place."

"Yeah, sure, the faux wood-panelling really adds something."

With a small laugh, he shrugged. "I spent some all-nighters in places like this back in college."

"Well, enjoy the nostalgia." Rebecca watched him for a moment and then looked down at her own menu, licking her lips nervously. "Thanks for coming today."

"Sure. So, no offense, but I didn't really expect a call from you."

"We had fun, but, yeah, I didn't expect to make the call."

His gaze, which had been bouncing around the room, taking in everything, evaluating, and God only knew what he was seeing through genius eyes, focused on her intently. 

"Lay it on me, Beck."

"I'm pregnant."

He stiffened and his eyes darted away from her to look out the window. 

"Relax," she sighed. "I'm not asking for anything from you."

"No?" He asked, sounding more than a little skeptical. Of course, he'd expect she wanted something, he had to have some suspicion when she called and asked to meet, and when didn't somebody want something from the golden boy?

"No," she insisted firmly. "Well, my sister suggested I castrate you, but I had to remind her I was a willing participant."

Shifting uncomfortably, he shot her a look. "I certainly thought so."

"But, I thought you deserved to know," she continued.

Sucking a long breath in through his nose, he tapped his fingers on the table. "So ... uh, well, okay." The rhythm of his fingers increased to an agitated tattoo. "You're sure it's mine?"

"Very sure," she gave him a rueful smile. "You're the only candidate."

"Huh. Okay." His restless fingers found the sunglasses and he fiddled with the arms. Tony Stark, off-balance, this whole thing might nearly have been worth it just for that. Well, maybe not exactly, but at least she got some small entertainment from the situation. 

The waitress came by while Tony digested the news, and Rebecca ordered a coffee for him and tea for her. 

"I don't actually know what to say here," he told her after the waitress left.

"Kind of a shock, I know," Rebecca agreed with a small nod. "I've had a few weeks to get used to it."

"Kind of?" He laughed bitterly and slumped back in the booth. "Yeah."

Rebecca chewed on the inside of her lip and stared at him for a long moment. "Okay, I lied a little. I do want something from you."

Tony's eyes flashed with something dark, and the blank mask of indifference fell over his face as he tried to cover the tick of disappointment, and maybe even betrayal, that pulled at the corners of his mouth. 

Rebecca shook her head, if she could have come up with another way of laying this news on him, she would have. She really hadn't wanted to ambush him with this. But, well, how else did you do this? 

She leaned forward over the table and grabbed one twitching hand. "I want you to help me give her a normal life."

"Normal," he echoed as if the word was foreign. And, she supposed, to him it was. 

"Well, I wouldn't say no to some sort of child support -- my sister insisted I bring it up, so now I can tell her I did -- but honestly, what I want more than anything is for this baby to be safe and happy."

"I don't do safe," he said, sounding mulish as he pulled his hand away from hers. 

"That's why what I'm really going to ask for from you is that you not fight me over her."

He frowned at her and stroked a finger across his mustache. "Okay, two things. One, you say it's mine, but that's just your word."

"True. I'll do a paternity test, if that's what you want." Rebecca shrugged. "I figured you'd ask, and I should have offered first. This is as hard for me as it is for you, believe it or not."

He snorted. "Okay."

"Two?"

"You keep saying her, but you can't be far enough along to know. I mean, I don't know much about," he waved a hand at her midsection and looked a little squeamish. "But, could be a him, right?"

She laughed. "Fair enough. But I couldn't keep calling her 'it' and I'm crossing my fingers I don't end up with a Tony junior." She raised her eyebrows and gave him an amused but challenging smirk, that grew into a smile as he scowled. 

With narrowed eyes, he lifted his chin arrogantly and sniffed. "Well, then, I hope you end up with an Antonia junior."

It felt good to laugh about this. When she'd first suspected she was pregnant, she spent two days in a panic. When the OB confirmed, she had a meltdown and sobbed on the phone to her grandmother, who decided then and there that 67 was the perfect age for her first plane trip, and despite insisting it wasn't necessary, when Bubbe Perlman showed up at her apartment, Rebecca had never been more relieved to see anybody. Now, a few weeks on, the idea of being pregnant was less terrifying, but there were moments -- bursts of panic that threatened to overwhelm her. 

Still, where her bubbe had insisted the child was a gift, and had helped her find a sense of happiness and, yes, even joy at the thought of motherhood, she hadn't realized how much she need to laugh. To let it go and realize, in that laughter, that it really was going to be okay. 

"That'd figure," she said at last, catching her breath and smiling gratefully at Tony. He looked confused, but she'd appreciate him anyway. "Well, whichever, I want him or her to be safe and happy."

"Fine," he agreed. "Done. Uh, child support. I can do that." He gave her an uncertain look. Poor man, he really was out of his depth. "I should do that."

"Tony," she shook her head and smiled. "I'm not asking for anything. It would be nice, but, look, this ... it just happened. I realize I'm really dropping something big on you and, honestly, you're taking this really well. Like, shockingly well."

"I think I'm still numb."

"I know the feeling."

"Right." He squinted at her and fiddled with the sunglasses.

"I don't want this in the courts or the papers, you know," she said. "I'm not going to make this a thing, I promise."

"Under the radar," he nodded and chewed at his mustache. "I, uh, I'm not really good at that."

"No kidding."

He shot her an impatient look and she held up her hands in apology. 

"My, uh, my dad's attorney," he suggested, staring out the front window, clearly thinking things through. 

"There's more to that sentence, I hope," Rebecca prodded. 

"Okay, is this like pregnancy hormones? Or are you always like this?"

"Always."

Tony shuddered. "Terrifying. Leo Garvey was my dad's lawyer. I've known him my whole life. He's practically family. He'd keep it quiet."

"If that's what you want."

"Well given the alternative is, apparently, castration."

With another laugh she gave him a wry look. "I can handle my sister."

"Jesus, I hope so."

"Look Tony, I'm not going to keep her from you--"

"Or him," he interrupted.

"Or him, but I don't want this to be a thing."

"I don't really think I'm dad material," he admitted, looking profoundly uncomfortable at the thought.

"I have no idea," she agreed. "Hell, I don't know if I'm mom material, but ... I don't know, when I found out I was terrified, but my grandmother told me to live with it for a few weeks before I decided anything." She shrugged. "It's weird, but somewhere along the way, I stopped being able to imagine not wanting her." She snorted at Tony's frown. "Or him."

"Okay."

"If you want it, fine; if not, I understand."

"Uh-huh," he said blandly. 

"Really, I get it. Surprise!"

He licked his lips and stared at her for a long moment. "You told your family?"

Rebecca knew what he was getting after immediately. Oh, the trials of being him. And this is why she wanted safe and normal for her child. To have to question everybody's actions, everybody's motives, all the time, how was that a sane way to grow up? She did not envy him one little bit.

"I told them I was pregnant. Only my grandmother knows who the father is, and she won't say a word." A laugh bubbled up from her throat again. "God, if I'm lucky my mother won't speak to me again for years. Fingers crossed."

Tony's lips twitched in amusement. "Not thrilled, huh?"

"I don't think that woman's been thrilled with me since I was born," she sighed and rolled her eyes. The hour long lecture about how she'd derailed her life and she was going to end up in government housing bagging groceries and probably turning to drugs, had been so very awesome. 

"Sounds familiar," he muttered.

"Yeah, well, anyway." At some point the waitress had dropped their order off and Rebecca sipped at her herbal tea, making a face at the green, mossy taste. "I hate tea."

"So have decaf," Tony said.

"That's worse. I'll know the whole time it's fake coffee. It will ruin the coffee experience."

"The coffee experience," he repeated, sounding amused.

She narrowed her eyes at him and pointed a finger. "Hey, you go without and tell me how that turns out for you. I get one cup a day, Tony, and I savor it. _Savor_."

Pressing his lips together into a reluctant smile he bowed his head, accepting her point. "Okay. So, on the subject, how is everything? You know, baby-wise?"

"Everything's fine. I had a doctor's appointment a few days ago."

He nodded and picked up his mug, staring into the black liquid. "You're, uh, you're kind of doing this on your own. I mean--"

"I've been doing things on my own for a while now," she told him. "My grandmother came for a week to talk me out of my meltdown, but, it's fine."

He shot her a skeptical look and turned the mug in his hands. Busy hands, he had such busy hands. For a moment she wondered if their child would have such busy hands, if she (or he) would be as restless, as wound tight with genius and intensity.

"Yeah, okay," he said after a moment.

"I'll keep you updated if you want."

"That would be ... good," he said, sounding not sure if that was good or not. His bafflement at how he should react and what he should say was almost painful. "I think I'd like to know."

"You think."

He tossed his head in irritation, the long locks of the stupid mullet wig fluttering. "Hey, I've had like twenty minutes here."

"I know, I'm sorry," she apologized and have him a sincere pat on his arm. "Give me your address and I'll send you sonograms and whatever else."

"Sure," he pulled a wrinkled piece of paper from his pocket and a stubby pencil. He scrawled his information on one side and slid it across to her. Picking it up she turned it over and looked at the math and rough sketch line drawing of ... _something_ on the other side.

"Do you need this?"

"No. I was bored. I figured it out already."

"Of course you did."

He smirked and tapped a finger on the rim of his mug. "You need help with anything? Doctors or bills or ... I don't know, whatever you might need help with?"

"No, I'm fine. It was good timing, actually, my insurance kicked in at work about three months ago, so it's all good. My OB is great."

"What do you do again? You know, assuming I ever asked in the first place, which, honestly, I don't usually do."

"And you don't actually care, but it's nice of you to try, Tony."

He gave her a shrewd look and his lips pulled up in smug triumph. "CAD tech, wasn't it?"

"Okay, so why did you even ask?" She threw her hands up and kicked his foot under the table.

He snorted a laugh. "The kid's going to be a freaking genius."

"She's going to be her and you're not going to pressure her," she warned darkly. "Or him."

"Genetics, baby," he pronounced, spreading his own hands wide, demonstrating their helplessness in the face of fate. 

Rebecca shook her head. "We'll see, I guess."

Tony sat quietly for a long minute staring out the window again, and she couldn't tell if he was contemplating impending fatherhood or rebuilding an engine.

"I'll call Leo," he said after a few minutes. "We'll do the paternity thing. Leo will know how to keep it all quiet."

"Okay," she said quietly. He was, truly, taking this better than she'd expected. Doubts, she'd braced for, because it really was just her word right now. And while he'd had them, he hadn't pressed on them, and had seemed to take in almost immediately the fact that he might be a father. He definitely wasn't what she was expecting at all. Of course, they'd only had one night. One hell of a fun night, but some small talk, some tequila, and a one night stand, did not exactly give her much insight into who he was. 

Tony slid out of the booth and dropped a twenty onto the table. "So, uh, do we shake hands, here? What's the protocol?"

Rebecca laughed and stood, giving him a quick hug. Stepping back she looked him over closely. "You won't fight me over her? Or him?"

"No. But if, you know, you need something," he said, shifting uncomfortably and watching the other patrons in the restaurant. 

He was not at all, not for one second of this whole meeting, what she would have expected. She put a hand on one cheek and brushed her lips against the other. He could have been an asshole about this whole thing, and that would have been fine -- disappointing but fine. Instead he was awkward, uncomfortable, and surprisingly accepting and generous. 

"Thank you, Tony."

"Yeah, sure. I'll, uh, call."

***

"You can come all the way in," Rebecca called out, her voice thin, exhausted, but happy.

Tony stepped through the door and stood, restless, by the bedside. "I saw your, uh, bubbe? In the hall. She hugged me."

Rebecca snorted a laugh and smiled up at him. "She does that."

"Okay." He looked her over and his busy hands twitched on the blanket of her bed. "You look ..."

"Like hell?"

"Tired," he said quickly. "I was going to say tired."

"I just gave birth to a whole human being. It ain't easy." She nodded to the bundle in her arms. "Do you want to hold her?"

"Uh ..." he shifted, his shoes squeaking slightly on the polished linoleum. But, he didn't step back and she raised an eyebrow. 

"You'll be fine. It's hard coded. Just pretend she's a delicate circuit board." She handed their daughter over to him. He took her gingerly and held her out from his body, awkward and unsure. "She's not a bomb. Cradle her head."

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, slipping his hand under the baby's head. "Neck muscles undeveloped. I, uh, read a thing." He shot her a look, daring her to say anything. She just smiled back.

He looked down at the infant in his arms, pulling her closer to his body and staring down at her with a look of such profound bafflement, Rebecca almost cried. "Jesus, she's small. Is she small?"

"Not abnormally," she assured him gently. 

He nodded and shifted her in his arms, tucking her into the crook of one arm and tugging back the blanket to see her face, catching one tiny hand with his index finger as her chubby fists flailed slightly at the movement. He turned the little hand gently around his finger, examining it, and stroking it with his thumb. "Look at this. Just, look at this ... tiny, perfect little fingernails. Holy crap. I mean, of course they'd have fingernails, but, you don't really think about it, and they're so freaking small."

His voice was hushed and awed. Rebecca brought her hands up and rubbed at her stinging eyes. She'd be so glad to be over this whole whacked out hormone thing, but, the unreal sweetness of Tony holding their daughter was overwhelming enough on top of the hormones. "Good engineering, I guess," she managed with a small, somewhat watery, laugh. 

"God, I guess." He shook himself out of his study of the baby's hand and glanced over at Rebecca. "What are we calling her, here?"

"Darcy."

"Darcy? What the hell kind of name is that?"

Reaching out a hand, she poked him in the hip. "It's my grandmother's maiden name. She's been amazing, and I wanted her name in there, but her first name is Mabel, and I wasn't going to do that to my daughter."

"Oh, yeah, good call." He brushed a finger over the baby's forehead and stared some more. 

"She doesn't have a middle name yet," Rebecca said, watching him. "I thought maybe you had a name you liked."

"Not really," he murmured. "I mean, you know, Antonia." He shot her a smirk and she shook her head firmly. 

"What about your mom's name? Darcy Maria sounds nice."

Tony's face did something complicated and unreadable and for a second Rebecca was afraid she'd gone too far.

"Yeah," he said at last, voice distant and thin. "That's ... okay. I mean, not bad. Darcy Maria. Welcome to the world, kid."

***

"You want to what?" Rebecca hissed into the phone, feeling her cheeks start to heat with anger. 

"I want to vet him," Tony said evenly, like it was the most sensible, rational thing in the world. It was not.

"I thought that's what you said, but it was such an insane thing to say, I didn't believe it."

"He's going to be my kid's stepfather. I want to make sure he's not some sort of molester or fugitive."

"Tony, you need to stop talking right now. Like, not one other word, because this conversation is going to become very unfortunate if you don't."

"She's one," Tony replied, stubbornly, because in addition to being a genius, Tony Stark was also the world's biggest idiot.

"Nice of you to remember," she growled back.

"You wanted me to make sure she was safe, this is me making sure she's safe," he pressed on, either oblivious to or choosing to ignore the rising temper in her voice. 

"Suddenly you've decided I'm not capable of looking after her? I told you not to fight--"

"And I want to meet him."

"You should have started and stopped there," Rebecca sighed. "Wanting to meet him is totally understandable, so fine, we can do that. Wanting to 'vet' him? Jesus, Tony. No running a background check on him." When Tony stayed uncharacteristically silent on the other end of the line, she ground her teeth. "You did it already, didn't you?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, voice stiff.

"You're unbelievable." She sighed. "So? Is he a fugitive?"

"No."

"Really, was it too much to just say you wanted to meet him?"

"Pretty sure I did."

"Without prying into his life?" Rebecca's voice rose to a shout and she paced irritably across the little park on her company's lot. It was as private as she was going to get, because he always insisted on calling when she was at work. Probably so she couldn't actually shout. She refused to wonder how he knew her schedule. That would only send her nuclear.

"He's got student loans he's still paying off," Tony continued, as ever heedless of the danger.

"So do I, so does everybody who isn't you."

"I don't want my kid ending up in a flop house in Boyle Heights or something," he replied, his voice taking on a tone of such arrogant stubbornness she wanted to throttle him.

"Boyle -- Tony, you are being ridiculous. He's got a steady, good job, he makes his loan payments, not that it's any of your business. Between the two of us, we're good. We're better than good." She pressed a hand to her forehead and took a deep breath. Tony was ... bad at this. So very, very epically bad. But, he was trying and getting angry at him for trying was not going to make the situation better. She just needed to herd him towards non-rage-inducing ways to try. "I've been doing this by myself up to this point, anyway, you know."

"Plus child support."

"Yes, Tony. You were more than generous. Darcy's safe, happy, healthy, and has more toys than any fourteen-month old could need."

"You should get a house."

She couldn't stop the laugh that burbled up from her throat. He was unreal. "Tony, butt out. We're fine."

"You'd tell me if you weren't?"

"Yes. I promise."

"A nanny! Do you need a nanny?"

"No, I don't need a nanny, my company has on-site child care and Paul's parents are great and completely in love with Darcy."

"Oh, I didn't check on--"

"If you run a background on them," she cut him off with a hiss, "you and I are going to have serious problems."

Tony huffed, annoyed. "Fine."

"I mean it."

"God, fine, alright."

Rebecca chewed on her lip and stared up at the sky. "I told you as a courtesy, Tony, not so you could get hyper-annoyingly protective."

"I got it," he bit out, sounding as pissed as she'd been earlier. Which was just fine, as far as she was concerned. This was an irritating conversation and he deserved his share of it.

When she'd found out she was pregnant, she'd been terrified and overwhelmed. Her grandmother talked her down, and eventually she told her child's father because it felt like it was the right thing to do. He deserved to know. She'd never actually thought about how she'd be sharing this whole other person with Tony Stark. Honestly, she'd thought he'd make his child support payments, maybe check in every once in a while, and then be pretty hands off. 

That suspicion was, she thought, confirmed once they'd met with his family lawyer, Leo Garvey, and Tony had seemed content to just let the two of them hash out everything. Anytime she or Leo would ask his opinion, he'd shrug, offer more money, and say she was doing the hard work, it was up to her. She'd wanted to sock him, more than once, but thank God for Leo. Once she'd managed to impress on the older man that she really didn't want anything from Tony, that she wasn't after fame, that she wasn't going to sell this scandal to the tabloids, he'd moved mountains for them, and smoothed the rough patches caused by Tony's apparent detachment. 

When it was all said and done, their baby had a complicated and immense trust fund, and Rebecca got child support payments more generous than she'd been entirely comfortable with, but every time she tried to talk it down, Leo shook his head and showed her numbers and state law and percentages and said it was the way it would be. Then he told her to give him a dollar and sign a piece of paper saying she was hiring him as the child's lawyer. She'd been happy to do so, and hadn't had one second of regret about it. Best dollar she ever spent. 

Still, she thought it might end there. Leo kept in touch, hired her an accountant to manage her child support payments, asked after doctors visits, and was, in general, a kind man who had a true fondness for Tony that he willingly transferred to his child. Tony called, maybe once or twice over the six months, but he'd never replied to any of the mail she sent with sonograms and updates. But then Darcy was born, and he'd come to the hospital and held his daughter and, well, that's the sort of thing that changes a person. Even Tony Stark, apparently. 

He called a couple of times a month now, random phone calls at work, always brief, and he never sounded anything less than bemused and uncomfortable. But he called. And he kept calling. And sometimes there would be a large package when she got home from work, a new toy or ten he saw that made him think of Darcy. Or even, every now and again, some small item for her -- a scarf, a fruit basket (she'd laughed. A lot), a hand-made glass vase. 

But now this. She'd sent him an email, telling him she was getting married to a very nice man. He called two hours later. Being a single mother was a challenge, and she'd known that going in, but trying to negotiate parenting that child with Tony Stark? God, she'd never even honestly considered it. Some tiny, petty part of her wished he'd go back to being detached and hands off, but ... that was profoundly unfair, both to Tony and to Darcy. But, she really did want to throttle him sometimes. 

"Don't push me, Tony," she said, now feeling weary and wrung out by the whole thing.

"Saturday."

"What?"

"I'm free Saturday. We could meet."

Rebecca chewed on that for a second before nodded. "Lunch?"

"Whatever, sure."

"Should I bring Darcy? You haven't seen her since--"

"Nah, that's ... you don't have to do that," he interrupted quickly. "She'd probably be bored, then, you know, get fussy, or whatever."

"Like father like daughter, I guess."

"Funny," he grumbled. "I just--"

"Tony, it's fine. I told you I didn't expect you to be part of her life if you didn't want to."

"It's not that I don't," he replied evasively. 

"I'm not judging. And the absurdity of your over-protectiveness aside, I appreciate that you're looking out for her in your own very special way."

"God, you don't have to make it sound like that."

"Like what?"

"Never mind. I gotta go. Email me wherever."

"Fine. Try and be sober."

"You're a comedienne."

***

"No."

"Why not?" Paul threw himself back in the booth, exasperated.

Tony's chin rose and his lips thinned to the point they almost disappeared completely behind his mustache. "She's my kid."

"Yeah, and in a couple months she'll be mine, too," Paul argued back. "We just thought it would be easier if she had the same last name as her mom. I mean, her birth certificate says Perlman, not Stark, already, why would she still have her mom's maiden name?"

Tony scratched at his chin and cast his eyes around the restaurant. "My last assistant would say this is a very paternalistic conversation."

Rebecca snorted a laugh. "How long did she last?"

"Three weeks," Tony shrugged. 

Paul groaned and tried to pull the conversation back on topic. "Okay, well, she needs a last name. And, hey, I'm not the type of guy who just expects my wife to take my name, but Becks and I talked and it's what she wants, so why would Darcy keep her mother's maiden name? I'm just saying..."

Rebecca patted Paul on the shoulder comfortingly; she'd tried to warn him, but there was just no good way to describe Tony Stark and his unpredictable bursts of attentiveness or distraction.

"We could make one up," Tony suggested.

Rebecca shook her head. "No. We're not making up a damned name for her. Stark or Lewis, that's the deal."

Paul sat forward again, his elbows on the table, trying to project sincerity and patience. Bless him for trying, Rebecca smiled fondly and rubbed at his back.

"Look, Tony," he said evenly, sounding all the world like he was trying to negotiate a peace treaty. "Darcy ... you know what? She's already my daughter. I'd do anything for her. If you're worried about that, don't be. And if you're worried I'll try to, I don't know, keep her from you, I won't." He shook his head and frowned. "But have you even seen--"

"Paul," Rebecca cut him off. She'd told him about this, when he asked her to marry him, she'd told him the truth, she told him about Tony and about their agreement. But Paul was not like Tony, and didn't know him. He'd expressed his own bafflement at how somebody could have a kid and never see them, because he was the kind of guy for whom family was everything, and she loved him for it, but this was a bad tack to take with Tony. 

"Tony," she said, her voice low and, she hoped, soothing, as she tried very hard not to let this conversation blow out of proportion -- or more out of proportion. "She's going to be Lewis. If, when she's older, she wants to change her name to Stark, that's fine. Hell, if she desperately wants to go back to Perlman, I'm not going to stop her. You've done an amazing job of keeping her safe from people who'd want to take advantage of your daughter. Really, Tony, you've been fantastic." He was stiff and staring out the window, but she reached out and touched his hand. "Stark isn't an uncommon name, but one more step removed is one more layer of security, right?"

Tony turned his eyes back to her and watched her for a long moment before nodding once and looking over at Paul. "Fine. You're already a better dad than I am, anyway."

"Nobody's saying that," Paul argued back with a frown.

With a brittle laugh, Tony stood up from the table. "I am. Take care of her." He shoved on his sunglasses and dropped some money onto the table. "Oh, and, hurt her and I'll destroy you," he said conversationally, a smirk on his lips. 

Rebecca was a heartbeat away from actually losing her cool, but before she could, Paul stood and stuck his hand out with a grin at Tony. "I might not have your resources, but same goes, pal."

Tony laughed and gave him a firm handshake. "Deal."

Rolling her eyes, Rebecca watched Tony stroll out of the restaurant before narrowing her eyes at Paul. "What was that? Was that some sort of man-thing I don't want to know anything about?"

"Maybe a dad-thing. We were just discovering we actually had something in common."

"Miracle of miracles," Rebecca responded dryly.

***

"Stark."

"You could have come up and said something," Rebecca said, not bothering with common phone courtesies, because he never bothered and got weirdly impatient whenever she tried. 

"Too many people," he grunted, sounding like he was in the middle of something. Building a tank or a go-cart, probably, and it could so easily be either.

"Your disguise is getting better."

"My new assistant was a makeup artist."

"How long will this one last?"

He made an exasperated sound. "Hell if I know. It's not like they come with an expiration date."

She laughed. "Fair enough. Anyway, Darcy would have been happy to meet you."

"Right there? With all those people? That would have been weird. I think that would have been weird."

"Can I tell her you were there?"

"Nah, that's weird, too. Like I'm dad-stalking her, or something."

"Tony, she's four, I don't think she'd get the concept."

"So?"

Rebecca shook her head and sighed. "So, what did you think?"

"You want a review? Except for the second pumpkin in the first row, it was painful."

"It was a play put on by pre-schoolers, it's hardly Broadway. But, she was a cute pumpkin."

"Best I've ever seen," Tony agreed without hesitation. "Four stars."

"We're having a birthday party for her on Saturday--"

"Schedule's jammed."

She didn't press. Four years, she knew how he was, and she knew enough to know that he cared, but that he was, well honestly she wasn't sure what. Terrified, maybe. Of a four-year old. God, Tony. She wished for Darcy's sake that he'd get over it, but every time he showed up at one of these things, she felt like it was one step closer to him getting over whatever his hang-up was. So, she'd be patient. 

"Okay. I'll send you pictures."

"Great. I've gotta go."

"I'll talk to you later."

"Sure."

***

"How did she get hurt?"

Rebecca sighed. "Hello, Tony. She's eight."

"And?" He huffed, impatient and sounding just a hint frazzled.

"She's eight, Tony. She was trying to make an escape route out of her playfort, because, according to her, the bad guys had the other exits covered."

She heard Tony choke on a laugh. "Bad guys, huh?"

"The canvas tore and she fell."

"Okay, how is she?"

"Sore and cranky, but she didn't need surgery, it was only a partial separation. She'll have to do some special exercises once her arm is out of the sling, but the doctor says she'll make a full recovery," she assured him.

He was silent for a moment before letting out a small sigh and another laugh. "Good, good. You need anything? Stronger canvas? Kevlar?"

"Oh, let's not tempt Darcy and fate. She's already told me what went wrong and how she'll do it better next time. Sometimes she really, really reminds me of you."

"Genetics, baby," he snickered. One of his favorite lines when Darcy did something heart-stopping or odd. "I could get her a zipline."

"And then I'd have to murder you," Rebecca told him frostily.

"Seems harsh, but then Darcy would be insanely wealthy, so ..."

"She doesn't get her trust fund until she's twenty-six."

"Yes, but she's my heir, if you murder me, my billions are hers."

"So now you're tempting me?"

"Just pointing out the bright side to my grisly death."

***

"Hey, so, I'm sending Leo over."

"Hello, Tony. Why? Is something wrong?"

"No, I just ... I, uh ..."

"Are you dying?"

"No. No, why would you ...? I'm fine."

"Okay, if you're sure."

"I want to meet her."

Rebecca sucked in a breath and pressed a hand to her mouth, trying to hold back her surprise and, yes, triumph. "Really? Are you going to chicken out at the last minute?"

"That's why I'm sending Leo. He'll know what to say, he's good with kids, or so I hear."

"And he won't let you back out."

"Right, he'll give me guilt. Plus, you know, he says he's getting older and he wants to meet her before he kicks it."

"Uh-huh. And if he just happens to tell her about you--"

"Neutral party. Sort of."

"It'll be nice to see him. He calls every now and then. A couple times a year, I suppose. Did you know that?"

"No, but, you know, not surprised. He is her lawyer, and, well, a nice guy."

"That's true," Rebecca agreed and stared at the drawings of dinosaurs and Captain America beating up Nazis on the fridge. She could cheerfully throttle her father-in-law for giving Darcy that Captain America history book; it had been non-stop Nazi punching ever since, and poor Sam found himself frequently, and unwillingly, cast in the role of bad guy. Though, lately she'd relented and let him be Bucky, much to his boundless joy. "You're sure about this?"

"Yeah. Wait, why? Do you think it's a bad idea?" He sounded anxious again and she shook her head at herself for bringing it up. 

"I think it's a great idea. She's finally started looking at that erector set you gave her for her birthday. God only knows what she'll build."

He laughed. "I've got way cooler toys."

"Oh, believe me, I know. Your brains together ... scary thought."

"Awesome. I think you meant awesome."

"Sure, and terrifying. But in a good way."

He made a sound that might have been a laugh, but there was such an edge of uncertainty to it. "Sure, okay."

"You'll like her, Tony," Rebecca said, trying to reassure him. "You really will."

"Of course, I will," he snapped, uncertainty shifting to insult lighting quick, because he could go from indifferent to touchy in a breath. "She's my kid."

"I know you love her, Tony, but I mean you'll like her as a person. She's a fun kid."

"And what will she think of me?"

"She'll like you, too," she promised. "You're another fun kid, after all."

When he laughed this time, the edge was off and she let out a silent breath of relief. "Okay, so ... well, I want to see her, but I get it might be kind of weird, so, just, when she wants."

"Yeah," Rebecca agreed. "I think you two should know each other, but I won't force it. For what it's worth, her curiosity will get the better of her. But, school's out in a few more weeks, maybe that would be a good time. I'll let Leo talk to her and we'll go from there."

"Thanks. And, you know, thanks for ... uh, being a good mom."

"I do my best."

He grunted his agreement and then cleared his throat. "So, hey, about Sam, is it weird, or, I don't know, unfair that Darcy has a trust fund and he doesn't? I could--"

"Tony, thank you, but no," she said firmly. At some point she had to figure he'd stop surprising her, but his brain worked in ways she hadn't yet sorted out. "Your child support is enough for five children and their friends. It lets us save money for Sam. We've got a college fund going, it's good."

"Okay," he said uncertainly.

"But if you buy her a pony, you're going to have to let him ride it, too," she warned with amusement.

"Does she want a pony?"

And, there it was, she needed to learn to keep her mouth shut. She could imagine him pulling out his credit card and starting a search for the nearest pony ranch. "No, probably not. Don't go overboard is what I'm saying."

"Oh, okay. Yeah."

"We'll lay down some ground rules. Would that help?"

"Sure, sounds good."

"Just be you and sober, it'll be fine."

***

Walking up to Tony, Rebecca smiled. "You made it."

"I wasn't going to let him back out." The man in the Air Force uniform, who'd climbed out of the car before Tony, stuck out his hand to her. "Jim Rhodes."

"Rebecca Lewis. You're Rhodey, I guess. Tony's mentioned you."

"Really? Sometimes I think Tony likes to pretend I don't exist."

"For reasons like this," Tony grumbled. 

Jim laughed and looked over Rebecca's shoulder. "Is that her? Man, she's adorable. You sure she's Tony's?"

"Very sure. And that's outfit number six today. She's a little nervous. My husband and son are over there by the swings. We wanted to give you two some space," Rebecca told Tony.

"Nervous?" He asked, shifting his weight a little and chewing on his mustache.

"It's fine. She's excited, too. Wanted to look her best for her other dad."

"Right," he said, his voice flat.

"Go on, Tony," Jim gave him a nudge. "She's a little girl, not your board of directors."

"Stop talking to me."

Rebecca laughed. "She's just a smaller version of you, keep that in mind. Ask her what she made with that erector set you sent. You'll love it and it will give you two something to talk about."

"Sure." He still wasn't moving, though.

Pulling him into a hug, Rebecca gave him a fortifying pat on the back. "She's your daughter, just be you."

"Right, okay, right." He straightened his jacket and started off across the grass.

Rebecca and Jim watched him approach, watched Darcy stand up and smooth her dress, and watched them stop and stare at each other for a moment. Jim laughed and shook his head.

"I bet him twenty bucks he'd make her cry in under five minutes."

"Some friend you are," Rebecca snorted.

"Hey, if he was pissed at me, he wasn't overthinking this."

"Good plan."

"You want in?"

"Darcy's not easy to shake," she informed him, more than a little pride in her voice. "But, yeah, I'll take your money."

Jim laughed again and they shook hands. "So, she seems like a good kid. From what Tony's said."

"Oh, she is. Though, sometimes, she'll do something, or she'll get this look on her face, and she is so his daughter I'm surprised the whole world doesn't see it."

"God help you."

"They'll be good for each other. I hope," she mused, watching as they started actually talking and Tony sat next to her on the bench.

"I think you're right. I've never actually seen him nervous before."

"The only time I've ever seen Darcy this anxious, it's usually when she's done something and she's afraid we'll find out."

Jim snorted and grinned. "What's she get up to?"

"Nothing awful; kid stuff. There's a bully she's had a dust-up or two with. She got him back somehow. Took his lunch or hid his notebook or something. She's not mean, but she is determined and not a push-over. But, she was jumpy about it for a few days. And smug, too." 

"That sounds Tony-like. He is going to _adore_ her."

Rebecca sighed when father and daughter both turned to the pair of them and gave a double thumbs up. "She's going to adore him, too."

Jim waved back at them with a laugh and said, "Terrifying."

"So completely."

**Author's Note:**

> FYI, both Iron Man 3 and _The Winter Soldier_ are on the docket. Pinky swear. Lord, and that Agents of SHIELD one, but I've written four different versions of that one, and scrapped every single one. See? But, I'll fix it, honest.


End file.
